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I walk into the courtroom, shuffled papers and a baby crying turn my vision to the left. I see row after row of clients and their families, the disproportionate numbers of African Americans does not go unnoticed. I sense the uncomfortableness, the disconnect between the lawyers at the tables in the front and the people behind. The setup reminds me of an all-knowing god looking down on the sinners, with the judge’s podium centered and raised above the rest of us.
 
A sign just outside of the division between lawyers and clients reads “do not put your hands in your pockets, address the courtroom respectfully, no gum.” The sign takes me back to a client we represented, a young man with no prior record who was pulled over by the police for riding a bicycle at night without lights, apparently some city ordinance that I as a privileged female would never come into contact with.
 
I had watched the bodycam footage from the arresting officer, noting the aggressive demeanor our client garnished throughout the video. There were no legal grounds for arresting and charging this young man with a felony, but after watching the footage no jury would side with our client. He wasn’t likable, potentially had a learning disorder, and with reasonable assumption a drug habit. Striking me was the way with which he was holding his phone, only to realize later into the video that he was recording the encounter, afraid for what was to happen, trying desperately to record his version of events, knowing what inevitably happens when a client’s word is used against an officers.
 
When he showed up to court he was angry, aggressive even with the lawyers who were here to help him, noticeably under the influence of heroin or crack. Shaking, falling asleep in-between conversations, confrontational to us, he was of no use in his defense. I noticed he was wearing a hat, the same hat he adorned in the bodycam footage, and after hearing his story he wanted to know why they had pulled him over, how he was being charged with a felony. The answer was that he was targeted, probably because he was black, looking for a reason to search him in the hopes of finding drugs. There was nothing more we could do for him.
 
We walk back into the courtroom, he takes a seat at the front, and an officer assisting an imprisoned inmate walks in and immediately makes eye contact and tells him to take off his hat. His hate for officers deepens in that moment.

 

The disparity between the written law and the practiced law is one that became readily apparent when I started working on cases. Even if an officer had no grounds for arresting someone, even if it was unconstitutional to pull them over and search their things; the prosecution truly has the lowest burden to prove guilt in the series of court cases I mentioned above. See the kicker is; during that first probably cause conference, there is no penalty against the judge to move the case along, EVEN IF the person probably “didn’t” commit the crime – the threshold is so low and the backlash is so high if the case is dismissed; so judges side with the prosecution during probable cause conferences.

 

Most clients are offered a plea deal by the time they take their first step in court; an “easy way out” they think; they got lucky. Many will take it, few will fight (remember the 3% that go to trial from above? These are the other 97%). If they take the plea deal they’re sent to sentencing (an additional court date) and maybe probation but are on their way.  If not, they wait another week. The preliminary examination, as mentioned above, is where the prosecution has to have a “mini trial.” This court date is critical because if the prosecution’s case relies heavily on witnesses and the witnesses do not show up to court, the case has grounds for dismissal (there is no witness evidence). For many cases, ranging from domestic violence to larceny, the time between the actual committed crime and the court case are so long that the witnesses don’t show up. This is a gamble, but a gamble that would pay off positively for a lot of defendants.

 

So why do so many people take plea deals and give up their right to a trial? There are a few things I’ve come across so far that make plea deals not so much a “deal” as a catch. When many defendants are offered a plea deal, even in cases where they have done nothing or close to nothing wrong, they feel that they are getting a bargain. There have been times when, as a student intern, I know that I could win a case in court, but the client just doesn’t want to take that risk. But plea deals aren’t free wins, they come with potentially years of probation and fines totaling thousands of dollars, both aspects that are not easily doable as low income and impoverished individuals.            

 

The thing is, probation to many of us would be a hassle, yes, but not impossible. Probation to an individual in a low income, impoverished neighborhood is nearly impossible to complete, and as soon as they violate some aspect of it they receive another felony bench warrant, and so the court process begins again. But when you’re in this position, when court dates seem endless, when transportation is scarce and jobs reject you for felony convictions; even the potential of winning a trial is a gamble not worth taking. Because in the end, when you’re standing in front of a judge or a jury, the fate of your future is out of your hands. But here, with this plea deal, your future is your choice.

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Heroin and Heroism

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